The Road Not Taken
by ZvarriMyDearWatson
Summary: Phoenix Wright has always tried to believe in his clients, but in the end it is his duty to find the truth, no matter what. Now that Edgeworth has run into trouble once again, he finds himself at a crossroads: truth, or justice?


**AN: Well, this is my first fanfic! I'm going to do my best to stick with the general spirit of the series (I plan to keep the characters as 'in-character' as possible), so I'm just going to take the games and run with them in a different direction.**

**I've only recently started playing Trials and Tribulations, so this would be set probably in-between that and Justice For All - however, it might be safest for me to say that this exists on an alternate timeline, somewhere, because I'm sure there'll be continuity errors.**

**Please do let me know what you think so far!**

* * *

Phoenix hummed to himself as he crouched by the toilet, brush in hand. It had been ages since he'd had a chance to do some cleaning around the place, and even longer since he'd been lucky enough to be given a moment where he might be able to do it without interruption. It seemed like every time there was an interlude in the constant drama of his work, Maya would suddenly find some ridiculous new client for him to defend, or she'd decide she was famished and that his wallet was too full by the price of about three hamburgers, or she'd start watching The Steel Samurai with the volume turned up to a level that would make even Wendy Oldbag hard to hear. But now, with both Maya and Pearls down in Kurain village (not that Pearls was ever really an issue, unless of course there was another eligible female around and he happened to be blushing, in which case she was a very hard issue, right in the face), he could finally get some peace.

He stood up, hands on his hips, and looked down at the toilet bowl with a satisfied smile. There. It gleamed to the point that he was pretty sure it would function as a pretty darn good mirror. Which it would have to, now. Pearls had managed to smash the old mirror with her ball recently, and there was no way he could afford to buy a new one. She'd tried to glue it back together in secret, of course, but had somehow managed to construct an urn out of it instead, and besides – it was shattered into so many pieces that looking into it gave you the distinct impression that you were a fly with a migraine. He sighed ruefully (what was she doing with her ball in here anyway...?) and bent over the rim to examine his hair, smoothing it back into his trademark perfect points with his fingertips.

"Uhh. You having a moment there, Pal?"

Phoenix jumped, and span around so quickly that he almost fell over the toilet.

(Oh, god, did I just mess up my hair?)

"D-Detective Gumshoe! W-What are you doing here?"

The burly detective stood in the office, looking in through the open bathroom doorway at the lawyer with his eyebrows quizzically furrowed.

(I messed up my hair, didn't I.)

"Well, the door was open, so I guess I just assumed... look, I can come back later if you're... in the middle of something."

"N-No! No, it's fine, I'm not... it's not what it looks like," (what _does _it look like?) "I was just... oh, never mind."

Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair, hoping that it would fix whatever damage he'd done, and emerged from the bathroom into the office. Gumshoe gave him another bemused look, before shrugging in a way that said 'whatever you say, Pal.'

"So, Detective," Phoenix began, doing his best to pretend that he hadn't just been caught preening over the toilet bowl, "what brings you here? I thought you were working on a case."

Gumshoe immediately deflated and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, not meeting the defense lawyers gaze.

"Well, I was... I am, Pal, but you see, it's..."

"It's what?" Phoenix could feel the trepidation welling up inside him. This was going to turn out badly, he knew it.

"The evidence, Pal. It all points to one man."

"Yes...?"

"It's Mr. Edgeworth, Pal. There's... there's no doubt. None."

* * *

"Good God, Wright. What happened to your hair?"

Phoenix stared at the man behind the detention centre glass. By the state of the two of them, an onlooker could be forgiven for thinking that it was the defense lawyer who was imprisoned and the prosecutor who was visiting. Edgeworth was characteristically calm, his maroon suit and cravat in immaculate condition. Phoenix, on the other hand, was crumpled-looking in every possible way – his suit, his expression, and yes, his hair.``

"Never mind my hair, Edgeworth!" Phoenix pulled out his badge and pressed it against the glass, "look, here, I'm defending you, and I don't care what you say. Now what happened?"

"You're not defending me, Wright." Edgeworth gazed at him steadily, his face impassive. "There's no point. I'm guilty."

Phoenix faltered, the two words hitting him as hard as if the prosecutor had thrown stones. This was all too familiar. But looking into the eyes of his rival, his... his friend, he knew that this time wasn't the same.

(No, you're lying, I know you're lying.)

"I don't believe you."

"It's true, Wright. This isn't like last time. I killed her."

_(Her?)_

"That's not true and you know it!"

"Wright!" Edgeworth slammed his fist against the glass that separated them, making Phoenix jump and almost fall out of his chair. "Will you listen? For one moment, for just _one_ moment will you stop blindly believing in everyone's innocence and _listen?"_

The noise seemed to be sucked from the room, his breathing the only sound left.

Phoenix listened.


End file.
